


I Can See Clearly Now

by katehuntington



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Blood and Injury, Brothers, Dean Winchester Angst, F/M, Feels, Friendship, Gen, Heavy Angst, Love, Mild Language, One Shot, POV Dean Winchester, Paranormal, Possible Character Death, Protective Dean Winchester, Sad, Supernatural Elements, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:17:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21850492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katehuntington/pseuds/katehuntington
Summary: After a falling out with Y/N, the Winchester brothers are on the road trying to find her again. Then Dean gets a disturbing phone call and he needs to move fast if he wants to save her life. (Dean x Reader one shot, Dean’s POV. Angst)
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	I Can See Clearly Now

“I just don’t understand why you can’t pick up the phone and call her.”  
I try to ignore Sam, keeping my gaze fixed on the road ahead as raindrops run up the windshield, trying to find the way of least resistance. Unintentionally I clench my jaw, after which I sigh frustrated. It’s not the first time he brought it up; apparently my pain in the ass little brother can’t take a hint. You would assume that college boy is able to pick up on my annoyed glares and awkward silences, or maybe he just chooses to dismiss them. I’m not sure which one is more stupid.   
Trying to come off as casual and uninterested I stare past the window wipers, which squeak every time the blades unblurs the glass. Then I shake my head slightly, both in disagreeing and warningly.  
“We talked about this. I’m not calling her,” I state. “She made it clear that she needs to be alone.”  
“Are you _that_ blind?! Don’t you know her by now?!” Sam cries out.  
“No, I don’t, Sam! How can I if she keeps lying all the time?!”  
I can’t help but to raise my voice and I bite my tongue afterwards. It happens a lot these days, that I’m unable to keep my emotions in check, especially now that she ran for the hills.

Over the last couple of months, Sammy and I grew closer to the young huntress, closer than we should have. Not that she made it easy for us, ‘cause she acted like a total bitch at first. In the beginning I thought she hated my guts, with her fighting me on every decision I made. But fate would have it that when shit hit the fan, Sam and I were there to catch her. So we teamed up and hunted together. The Three Stooges, the Musketeers. The good, the bad, and the ugly, Sam being the ugly one of course. We became more than just colleagues, more than just acquaintances. We became friends; we became _family_.  
I let that fundamental word echo through my mind as I ponder. It means a hell of a lot; I don’t go around calling anyone that. You gotta earn that title. Bobby Singer once told me, _‘Family don’t end in blood.’_ I don’t think I fully understood what he meant until Y/N became a part of our team. Sammy found a sister he never knew he wanted, a study buddy, a fellow nerd who he could get excited with over serial killer hauntings and prehistoric books. And I… I found someone I never expected to find: someone who brings out the best in me and makes me feel things that I thought I wouldn’t be capable of, not after all the literal horror I’ve witnessed in my lifetime of hunting. I found a goofy kid who laughs at my lame jokes, a girl with an appetite of a trucker and the ability to drink me under the table. I found a rock chick who loves Zep and AC/DC and adores my car as much as I do. I found the woman who puts family first, is kind and generous, and never ceases to help others in need. You know what? I’m just gonna say it: I found the woman I’m in love with.

Things were good between us. It must have been a month ago when I first kissed her. I downed five shots before mustered up the courage and still I found shooting a charging werewolf the night before less scary. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve kissed plenty of girls, but she ain’t just any chick. This was Y/N, and I really didn’t wanna fuck it up. We hooked up several times, and it was always either epic or awesome. Despite that we were taking it easy, I fell hard for her.  
Deep down, I always had this itch that she didn’t tell me the whole story, though. There was something that she kept hidden. Little things gave her away. Short, almost unnoticeable hesitations. Starting a sentence by questioningly calling my name, and then dismissing it with a ‘never mind’. I never really pushed her, figuring that she would tell when she was ready. It never got to that point, though. A week ago, the unthinkable happened.  
After almost a year of searching, the one person who we’ve been looking for stepped into our motel room: Dad. But the air in the room changed the second he laid eyes on Y/N, who didn’t hesitate to pull her gun on him. After a heated discussion with guns drawn like in an old spaghetti western, the truth finally surfaced. Apparently Dad was working with Y/N’s parents, when a plan backfired, killing them both. Even though Dad was her guardian, he left Y/N at an orphanage. Since then, she had made it her life-long mission to get revenge. The easiest way to find Dad was to latch on to his sons. Every hunter has a justification to sign up for this life; John Winchester was hers.

“She had a reason,” Sammy mentions, as if he could tell what was on my mind just now.  
“You mean Dad?” I assume with a tone.  
“He shouldn’t have left her like that. That’s all I’m saying.”  
A silence follows as we both continue to stare into the darkness beyond Baby’s headlights.  
“No, he shouldn’t have,” I agree after several quiet seconds.  
Surprised by that conclusion, Sam frowns. I can almost hear him thinking: _did Dean just admit that Dad did something wrong?  
_ “I’m not saying that what she did was a-okay. She still used us,” I correct.  
“I don’t think she did,” my younger brother disagrees. “Y/N desperately tried to stay away from us, remember that? She was mean, you two were clawing each other’s eyes out…,” the both of us smile faintly at that. “But somehow we still stuck together, and it’s a good thing we did, because we all would have ended up dead without each other.”  
Sammy isn’t wrong there. Even two weeks ago, Y/N only just saved me from getting hanged by a poltergeist in an old hotel in Gold Canyon, Arizona. I remember waking up in the dust, noose still around my neck and her beautiful face above me, scared tears in her eyes after which she kissed me deeply.  
“Y/N wants us there, Dean,” Sam snaps me from my thoughts. “We need to back her up.”  
“She’s the one who left, Sam,” Dean says, burdened.  
  
A semi rushes by on the other lane. Its headlights blind me and illuminate Sam’s face, after which the light fades again as the Mack passes. The wipers shoot from right to left and back, offering me some kind of visual.  
“She thinks we’re still mad. She held Dad at gunpoint. I kinda get why she doesn’t think we can get back to how things were.”  
“Who says we can?” I bring to mind.  
Sam stares at me, his jaw dropped.  
“You’re still holding a grudge? Seriously? He left her at a fucking orphanage, Dean! She grew up in seven different foster homes!”  
“Does Dad sound like the kinda person who would just up and leave a kid he was responsible for?” I argue, feeling the anger starting to boil again.  
“He did the same to us.”  
Sam eyes me coldly from his corner between the front bench and the door of the Impala. He has his arms crossed, his bangs hanging before his eyes and everything about him says that he’s not gonna agree with me. For a second I consider stomping the breaks and giving my brother a lecture, but instead I shoot him a glare.  
“Watch your mouth, Sam,” I warn, my tone low. “Dad never left for longer than a month. He did the best he could.”  
“You were ten, Dean!” Sam exclaims. “And he expected you to take care of a six-year old!”  
“And it didn’t turn out so bad, now did it?!” I shut him up. “Have you considered that maybe he wanted to spare Y/N this life? That that’s the reason why he left her at the orphanage?!”  
“Bang up job on that,” my brother huffs.

I hate it. I hate that a part of me agrees with Sammy. And so I don’t respond and let him win this argument, if there is such a thing as winning today. Contemplating, I grip the steering wheel a little tighter, pressing my prints into the leather. I’ve always lived in a black and white world. Monsters are evil, people are innocent. Kill evil, save the innocent. Simple rules, straight-forward orders. I do what Dad tells me to do, because he’s the leader of this pack and he’s always right, right? That’s the thing, I don’t know anymore. He forbid us from hanging with Y/N, because the girl he cares so much for holds him accountable for her fucked up childhood. No matter how you look at it, it’s an awful situation that forces both me and my brother to pick a side.  
“Maybe creating some distance isn’t a bad idea. This business doesn’t allow us to be social. The more people we care about, the more people die.”  
Sam huffs. “So what, you wish we’d never met her? That’s what you’re saying?”  
“No, Sam! I’m saying that I’m worried. I’m worried that this - this… whatever this is, will split our family up!” Frustrated I accelerate, despite the slippery wet asphalt.  
“Look, Dean…” Sam lets the air flow off his lips, struggling to ease it on me. “I know there’s more going on between you and Y/N…”  
I roll my eyes. “Oh, here we go…”  
“I know that Dad got in your head when he ordered us to stay away from her. I heard him say that she’s an enemy of this family… She isn’t, though. She’s a _part_ of this family. You care about her in a different way, I can see it in the way you watch her. Plus, motel walls are thin…”  
I can’t help but to smirk at that. Seems like we woke someone up after I snuck to her room on several occasions.  
“All jokes aside. You love her, Dean.”

I freeze, then manage to open my mouth in order to respond to that, but Sammy beats me to it. Thankfully, because I’m sure _‘I do not!’_ would have gotten a good laugh.  
“You don’t have to say anything, I don’t need a confirmation from you to know that it’s true. But before you close that door, think about how precious that is,” he explains. “I had that kind of love with Jess and I lost it. I would do anything to get that back. Think it through before you let her go, that’s all I’m saying.”  
“We’ll locate her, make sure she’s okay, then we go from there. Who knows, maybe we can work this out. But you can’t expect me to choose her over Dad, Sam,” I add, when I see a hopeful spark in my brother’s eyes.  
“I‘m not. But I do think that now would be the time to start having a mind of your own,” he suggests.  
“I’m here trying to find her, ain’t I? Dad would kill me if he knew,” I remind him.  
Dad was against this little rescue mission and I knew that going down this road will cause a big dent in my father’s trust. On the flip side, letting Y/N run off in the state of mind that she was in, feels even more wrong. What if one of those monsters in the shadows snatches her and we’re not there to back her up? I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.  
  
Suddenly my Metallica ringtone reverberates through the car; someone is ringing my cell. Who the hell would call at this hour?   
I take my phone out of my pocket and check the display, then my heart stops. An eerie sensation fills my stomach and creeps up my throat. She wouldn’t casually call, not after that clash three days ago.  
I pick up hastily. “Y/N?”  
“Dean…”  
It’s her all right, but a peculiar fear causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand up when I hear her say my name. The fear that surfaces whenever Sammy’s in trouble, or Dad is. Hearing the sound of her voice isn’t as comforting as I hoped it would be. It’s weak, trembling, almost a whisper. I immediately know something is off.  
“Are you okay?”  
“No – no, I’m not,” she cries. “Dean…”  
  
I close my eyes for a split second, then stare down the road again. _Fuck._ She just admitted that she’s not okay. It has to be bad, otherwise she wouldn’t… _Fuck!_ I swallow down a lump in my throat and glance aside at my brother, who stares back puzzled and instantly reads that something bad has happened.  
“Are you hurt?” I ask, worried.  
She doesn’t actually answer my question, but I can hear her respiration, breaths hitching with every inhale; she’s in pain.  
“I need your help.”  
“Where are you?” I ask quickly, not wanting to waste any time.  
“Lincoln… 1722 Tremont, in an empty warehouse,” she answers with difficulty.  
I look over my shoulder and only need a split second to read the sign beside the road; Lincoln is the other way. With my phone pressed between my shoulder and my ear, I hit the brakes hard and turn the wheel completely to the left with both hands. Baby slips and makes a 180° as Sam holds on for dear life. When we’re facing the road to Lincoln, I push the gas pedal down completely. With shrieking tires my car catches grip on the slippery asphalt again and races away fishtailing, leaving a trail of burned rubber. I take the phone back in my hand, speeding up to a hundred miles an hour.  
  
“Listen to me, Y/N/N. You’re gonna keep talking to me, okay? Whatever you do, don’t close your eyes, understand?” I beg her.  
Whimpers from the other side; she’s crying. I’m mentally kicking myself for letting her go in the first place, my heart breaking as I listen to her despair.  
“Hey now, it’s okay… It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. I’ll be right there,” I hush her, trying to tone down my own anxiety to a minimum.  
“I’m sorry, for leaving and… and the fight with your dad.”  
“That doesn’t matter right now, don’t worry about it. We’ll figure this out, just like we always do,” I promise.  
It’s quiet on the other side, but I can hear the blood rushing through my veins. As I push Baby to her limits, I send up a short prayer to the God I don’t believe in. Anything that helps.  
“Dean, if this…” she sobs. “If this is it, you need to know that I -”  
“No, no, no, no, no. Don’t you dare start that goodbye shit, you hear me?” I interrupt harshly, but regretting my tone the second I can practically hear the tears fall. “You can tell me later, alright? It’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine.”  
My eyes have filled with tears over the course of the conversation, but I blink them away quickly, nowhere near to admitting that this might be the last conversation I have with her. She _has_ to be okay. There is no other option, I’m not gonna accept an outcome that is anything less.  
  
“Please hurry…”  
“I’m going as fast as I can, ten minutes behind you. Did you call an ambulance?”  
“No, I can’t…”  
Her voice fades, getting weaker by the moment, but she’s able to continue whispering.  
“They’re still here…”  
It feels like someone just knocked the wind from my lungs. Holy shit, this won’t be just a rush to hospital. Is she kept hostage? Maybe they left her for dead, for bait maybe?  
“What are they, Y/N?”  
But she doesn’t answer. The only thing I can hear is the constant noise from the phone connection.  
“Y/N?”  
Nothing.  
“Y/N! Answer me!” I yell into the phone.  
Not a word, not even the sound of respiration. Frustrated I throw my phone in the back seat and step on the gas even harder, although Baby can’t go any faster.  
“God damnit!” I cuss out loud as I slam the steering wheel.

The Impala dangerously speeds up I55. Adrenaline is rushing through every nerve, mixing with multiple feelings I can’t even begin to explain. Sam watches me, I can feel his gaze burn in the side of my head. Only for a second I glance at him, about to explain to him what’s going on, but I can’t. If I say it out loud, I would acknowledge that this is happening.  
Sammy’s eyes are wild, apparently not sure what question to ask first.  
“She got caught?”  
“No, she called to make me an offer on better cable!” I reply sarcastically, going out of my mind. “Yeah, she got caught!”  
“You know what snatched her?” he interrogates.  
“I would have told you if I knew, Sam!”  
From the corner of my eye I can see Sam swallow hard. It’s doesn’t happen often that I lash out like this, I hope he understands. I’m glad that he doesn’t push any further, because a lump the size of a brick obstructs my throat as my mouth runs dry. You stupid, _stupid _idiot. How could you let her go like that?  
Lecturing myself won’t help her, but I can’t fight the guilt that is boiling over inside of me. I need to save her. It’s the only way to make this right.  
Without switching on the turn signal, I take the exit and skid through the tight corner. At the following intersection I run a red light, a station wagon swerving out of the way, but I don’t give a shit. I don’t care for the speed bump either, but when the exhaust pipe hits the asphalt as my car bounces off the damn thing and leaves a spray of sparks in our wake, I give the dashboard a pat. _Sorry, Baby._

“What do we prepare for?”  
Sam looks at me, waiting for my lead. It’s a solid question, because I have no idea what we’ll be facing. I go over the handful of clues: cattle mutilations, several dead, bled out bodies. They are all omens, but we weren’t tracking a case, we were tracking Y/N. I didn’t study the signs well enough to judge them, so I shrug desperately. Fuck, I wish I’d paid more attention.  
“I don’t know… uh, werewolf, demon?” I shoot almost panicky, but then I remember something that she mentioned.  
“They are still here,” I repeat.  
“What?”  
“The last thing she said; _they_ are still here. We’re talking about more than one, that gives us something. Whatever this is, they’re working as a team. Demons? Vamps?” I brainstorm.  
“Holy water and dead man’s blood it is,” Sammy concludes as I take a left, barely slowing down.

We approach a more remote section of town. Old rigs and factories tower over us, some of the buildings still in use, others empty. _Tremont_, it says on the corner of the narrow street; this is it. With no time to lose I reach over in the glove department to get my flask of Holy water, Sam quickly opens the door, the pouring rain hitting him as soon as gets out. My wise little brother heads to the trunk to get armored up, but I can’t wait for that. As he digs through the weapons, I bolt towards the factory.  
“Dean! What the hell?!” I hear Sammy exclaim.  
“You take everything out of the trunk that might come in handy, I’ll go find Y/N!” I tell him and without awaiting a response.  
“Wait! You can’t go in like that!” my brother objects.  
But I don’t listen. I don’t give a rat’s ass that I won’t have back up, that I’m going in blind. With my gun pulled out, I approach a door with white numbers; 1722. My own heartbeat drums in my ears, fast and restless, as I hold my weapon in front of me, finger off the trigger, but ready to point and shoot at anything that isn’t Y/N. With a fierce kick I free the door from its hinges and quickly scan the place, holding my flashlight above my pistol.  
“Y/N!!”  
No answer, just the echo of my own voice sounding through the high empty spaces, only disturbed by the rain on the roof. In a fast, yet careful pace I move further, but then halt, startled. On the floor, only a few feet away, the light shimmers on a body, motionless, just a pile of human.  
“No!!”

_ Oh God…_ I hasten towards her and crouch down. I knew she was in trouble when I heard her fragile voice, but her state shocks me to the core. She lays face down in her own blood, as pale as a ghost. I try to stop myself from shaking as I carefully turn her over. In her left hand I find a cell phone, 911 is still on the line. Quickly I take the device and put it to my ear.  
“Hello? Anyone there?”  
“This is Ali from 9-1-1 emergency. There’s an ambulance on its way over to the Tremont intersection, sir. Can you tell me who you are?”  
_ Smart girl._ She called for help, but made sure we would find her first, not wanting to lead the helpless first responders into this dangerous place. I wipe a string of hair out of her face, cupping it with my left hand. _Fuck, she feels cold._ It heightens my fear to a new degree.  
“I just found her, hurry up!” I tell the woman on the phone, desperately.  
“A medical team is on its way, sir. They are just a few minutes out.”  
“She doesn’t have a few minutes!” I exclaim.  
“Does she show any signs of life?”  
I check her pulse, but the outcome almost stops my own heart.   
“She’s not breathing…” I notify the dispatcher, in shock. “No no no. C’mon, Y/N… Not like this.”  
  
I want to panic. I want to shake her, yell at her to wake up. I hear Ali from 9-1-1 in the background, instructing me to perform CPR if I know how. But as I look down at her face, I notice something out of the ordinary. The operator’s static voice fades out as a beam from the streetlights outside is interrupted. I looks over my shoulder, watching Sam rush towards me.  
“Vampires!!” I shout, my hand blocking the blood flowing from Y/N’s main vein through a set of bite marks.  
Just in time, because my younger brother can only just intercept an attack from above by one of the creatures right before it releases its teeth on him. A second and a third appear from the dark and Sammy pulls out his machete. Shit, we’re outnumbered. We both look around in disbelief while more vamps show themselves. We walked right into a fucking nest!  
“Get her out of here!” Sammy shouts above the noise of struggle.  
Not wasting time, I pick up her lifeless body from the ground and carry her to the exit, while my brother covers us. I try to ignore the blood that is dripping down my arms when I run out of the factory. I try to ignore the sack of bones that I’m holding in the soaking rain. As fast as my legs can carry us, I hasten towards the main street. I _have_ to get her to that ambulance. They can get her to the hospital and doctors will save her, right? I have to try… But when I glance down at that porcelain face under the dreary skies and cold streetlights, I stop. By the sight of the girl I lost my heart to, I know. She has turned stone cold, there’s no blood left in her body, eyes slightly opened and pupils dilated. Her head bobbles over my arm limply, her messy hair stained with blood, hanging sadly in the rain.

“Y/N/N…?”  
Honestly I don’t know why I call her name. I know she can’t hear me, I know she’s… I pull in a shuddering breath, the glint of hope I had, crushed by reality. I’ve seen death from up close plenty of times before, I know its face. And right now as I’m holding her in my arms, I see it, too. I swallow apprehensively while my bottom lip trembles as I exhale.  
“No, no, no…,” I whimper. “God, please no… Y/N, please!”  
I just stand there, with my girl in my arms, dead weight. Helpless and broken I close my eyes and look up at the sky, hoping for a miracle, a sign from above, anything. I’m so desperate that I’m even asking God for help, the man upstairs who has never done me any favors. Nothing happens, nothing changes. And so I pull her into my chest as I let my tears run free, resting my forehead to hers. My sweetheart, she’s gone… And I didn’t even get to say it, how much I care for her. On the phone earlier, I shouldn’t have interrupted her when I got too scared of what possibly laid ahead. Jesus, why didn’t I let her speak? Why did I let her go? This is all _my_ fault…   
  
I rake my fingers through her hair and pull her into my chest for the last time, when a familiar sound catches my attention. Sirens grow louder and when I direct my attention to the road ahead, an ambulance speeds around the corner and stops in front of us with shrieking tires. Two paramedics get out as one pulls out a backboard.  
“Sir, I need you to lay her down,” one tells me as he positions the backboard. “Did you find her?”  
“Yeah, she was in the middle of the street.” I lie, continuing her plan to keep the first responders away from the danger in the warehouse.  
The paramedics work fast, quickly hooking her up to a monitor.  
“No pulse. No respiratory sounds.”  
“Push 1 milligram of epi,” his partner responds as he starts compressions.  
It hurts to watch them work her chest so hard, putting in lines and drugs to get her back. She can’t feel it, I know she can’t, but it feels wrong. The monitor shows a flat line and a continuous beep interrupts the silence on scene. I back out and let them work, although I slowly begin to grasp that it’s pointless. Then I glance over my shoulder at the warehouse, torn between Y/N and my brother. I know I need to get in there and back Sam up, there’s nothing I can do for her anymore.  
“Where you taking her?” I ask before I leave, my voice broken.  
“_Lincoln Medical Center_,” the paramedic answers, watching the man who’s asking turn away and make a run for it. “Hey! Where are you going? Sir!”  
  
I don’t have the time to linger and hasten back to the warehouse. As I run, I take the bullets out of my Colt M1911, rubbing them in my bloody hands; that should teach those fuckers. With every step that I move away from Y/N, hate and anger multiply, racing in my veins like a rollercoaster. I’m gonna kill every single one of those bloodsuckin’ bitches, even if it’s the last thing I do. Determined, I reload my gun and enter the large building, right in time to shoot one of the vamps from Sam’s back before it sinks its teeth into his neck. While I march in, I take out a knife, swipe the tip across the ground though the puddle of blood that Y/N left behind and bury it in the guts of a vampire who was coming at me. The thing looks me in the eye in shock, her injury stopping her mid action, choking with her mouth open and teeth visible. Driven by revenge I push the knife in deeper, fury causing my lip to twitch as I stare her down.  
“Dead girl’s blood, bitch,” I snarl and then pull out the knife.  
The vamp falls down on the ground and tries to crawl away, but she can’t get far, completely paralyzed by the toxic blood running through her veins. Another vampire picks her up from the floor and quickly flees. Sammy - out of breath and covered in blood splatters caused by the messy beheadings - picks up the machete that he lost in the fight, ready to chop off heads if anything dares to come closer. A pair of well-armed and skilled hunters are enough reason for the rest of the nest to pull back and get the hell out of dodge. In a matter of seconds we are the only ones in the abandoned warehouse, alone in the dark.

With questioning eyes, Sammy seeks eye contact, but I avert mine in time. Instead I stare down at my bloody hands, still holding the knife. Silently I put it away as my gaze freezes on the puddle of blood left by Y/N, watching my own reflection. Her blood worked, it intoxicated the vampires and turned out to be highly effective. Only the blood of the dead can do that. The fact that it harmed our opponents means only one thing. When I finally dare to meet my brother’s gaze and let him be a witness of the devastation, Sam knows.   
Staggered, shocked and unable to act, Sammy folds his hands behind his head as he turns away from me. When he has gone full circle, I can see the tears shimmer in his eyes through his brown bangs. I can’t stand the sight of my little brother being so upset, so I wander a few steps away. My hands are clenched in fists of rage, but it is not just anger I feel. Guilt, helplessness, desperation, sorrow. And this gaping hole that only grows larger with every loved one I lose. I lost her… I fucking lost her! Then I snap. Furious and out of control I take my frustration out on two garbage cans. Raging I kick them over and let out a loud tormented cry. 

I can feel Sam’s eyes on me, unable to respond. He’s speechless, but the sorrow in his expression tells more than words could ever say. I calm down, but only because the outburst doesn’t help me one bit. And so I place my hands in my side and swallow with difficulty, out of breath from boiling over. I can feel my eyes glaze over, but I don’t bother to turn away from Sam. I try to be his tough brother, someone he can look up to. A grown man crying doesn’t fit into that picture. But right now, I couldn’t give a shit who sees that tears begin to roll down my cheeks as I stare at the crimson pool in front of me.  
My younger sibling snivels, breathes in deeply and collects himself.  
“We - uh…” His voice fails him completely, catching him off guard. He swallows and clears his throat. “We better clean this mess up, before the police get here.”  
I just nod, numbed by the pain.

It takes a couple of extra seconds before either of us actually gets to work. Without saying another word, we cover our tracks. A thousand questions dwell on my mind, but those questions will remain unanswered. Hundreds of ‘what if's’, even more ‘if only’s’. What if I’d stayed with her? Would she be smiling opposite of me in a small booth of the local diner? Did she love me? That was what she tried to say over the phone, wasn’t it? Why the hell did I cut her off? Why the hell didn’t I tell her first? How could I promise her that it was gonna be okay? I didn’t say enough and yet too much, unspoken words and broken promises. Did she know how I felt? _You fucking coward_, I think to myself. _This is exactly what you deserve.  
_ These are only a handful of thoughts that cross my mind as we clean up the carnage. All those questions will remain unanswered, and the lack of answers will weigh on my shoulders for as long as I live. Not knowing is horrible, but the reality that is her death makes it all so much worse. I can’t find solace in self-hatred, not in the vampire corpses as we get rid of the bodies, not in the sudden change of the weather when we exit the building. I’ve reached my car already when I realize that the rain has stopped falling. I take a moment to look up at the stars that peek from behind the passing clouds, bright against the dark night sky. Minutes ago it was pouring, but now everything is clear. Tonight, Sammy and I lost our friend, our family. Tonight, I lost the woman I love.

There, I said it: _I love you, Y/N._


End file.
